


Start New File? Yes/No

by jumpthisship



Series: Press Start To Play [4]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, More gross fluff, Romance, Weddings, it's what chansoo and i deserve, smooches, still definitely pstp au tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-24
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2020-03-13 08:34:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18937297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jumpthisship/pseuds/jumpthisship
Summary: The day of the wedding turns out to be cloudy and just this side of chilly.





	Start New File? Yes/No

The day of the wedding turns out to be cloudy and just this side of chilly. Chanyeol almost cries. 

“I mean, we knew it might turn out like this, when we set the date for April,” Kyungsoo says when they wake up to a heavy grey sky. 

“I wanted there to be flowers and cherry blossoms,” Chanyeol says forlornly. “It was going to be so romantic.”

“It’ll still be romantic. It’s a wedding, flowers or no flowers, rain or shine.” Kyungsoo stretches, his shirt riding up to show a flash of his stomach. “Besides, how romantic will the pictures be if it rains on us? Think Jane Austen. It’ll be beautiful. People will probably cry.”

Chanyeol smiles a little. “ _I’ll_ probably cry. Regardless.”

“Then the rain will hide it,” Kyungsoo says, flashing him a smirk. “Now come on, Mr. Groom. Let’s start our day.”

They get ready separately, as if to preserve a _tiny_ bit of traditionality for their big day; Kyungsoo goes to his older brother’s house, Chanyeol to his sister’s. They put on their nice suits--just whatever they already owned, or something borrowed from someone their size--and shine their matching black Converse shoes. Yura knots Chanyeol’s bowtie for him, not because he doesn’t know how, but because his hands are shaking. 

“Stop worrying,” she says fondly, brushing his fringe to one side, then changing her mind and patting it straight again. She moves to pick up a can of hairspray. “Everything’s gonna be awesome.”

“Everything is _already_ awesome.” Chanyeol rakes his own fingers through his hair before his sister bats his hand away. “What if marriage ruins it?”

“It won’t,” is Yura’s firm reply. She starts spraying without warning, and Chanyeol closes his eyes and mouth. “I know you two. For you and Kyungsoo, it’s never been anyone but each other.”

It’s true. 

Still, Chanyeol watches the sky nervously the whole drive to Joonmyun’s parents’ home-slash-mansion, where the wedding will be taking place in the backyard. “Are the clouds getting darker? That’s probably a bad omen, if it storms on the day of your outdoor wedding.” His bowtie feels too tight around his throat. “Also, you have my vows, right? I tried to memorize them but you know I’ll forget under pressure. And you have the ring, right?”

“Yes, Chanyeollie,” Yura intones. “I’m a good best woman, thank you very much.”

“Yes to the clouds getting darker, too?” Chanyeol asks. 

“No, those are the same. I think. 60% chance of rain, the weatherman says.”

“40% chance it won’t,” Chanyeol tells himself bracingly. 

The venue is decorated simply, as requested. Only two dozen chairs are set up on the lawn in front of the fountain—not even all of them might end up filled, unless anyone brought unexpected plus-ones. There are a few bows tied to the chairs, a few balloons around the fountain. That’s it. It looks like a kid’s sixth birthday party. 

Chanyeol loves it. 

The photographer wanders around, taking candid pictures as Chanyeol waits for guests to arrive. His mother, his grandmother. Jongdae and Baekhyun. Joonmyun, obviously, with Yixing on his arm. Zitao, dressed better than Chanyeol is. 

He sees Kyungsoo’s brother’s car arrive, but it parks in front of the house, and he goes straight inside. 

Chanyeol starts worrying again. 

“Relax, man,” Baekhyun says, nudging his shoulder with his own. “You’ve done way harder things than this.”

“In theory,” Chanyeol mutters. 

“You saved a whole damn world,” Baekhyun reminds him quietly. “You fought robots and shit. With a _sword._ You almost died like a hundred times. You saved _us_ , at great personal risk to yourself. And what was a constant throughout all of that?”

Chanyeol sighs, shoulders relaxing slightly. “Kyungsoo.”

Baekhyun grins. “That’s right. Now go marry than man.”

The wedding starts half an hour later, once all of their guests have arrived. The sky rumbles forebodingly. Chanyeol moves to stand behind the chairs to one side; he hears the door open and Kyungsoo move to stand on the other side. With a deep breath, Chanyeol turns to sneak a peek. 

Kyungsoo looks back at him, smile soft, eyes bright, handsome in his nice suit, and Chanyeol almost bursts into tears. 

Their music is all soft piano, composed by Chanyeol specifically for this day, performed by Baekhyun off to one side. They walk down the aisle together, after best man and best woman and flower girl (Chanyeol asked Dahee to do it, with Kyungsoo’s blessing). Their hands meet in the middle—Kyungsoo’s is as clammy as Chanyeol’s. It’s soothing. 

He barely hears a word of the five-minute sermon given by the officiant, too busy holding Kyungsoo’s hands, staring at him, trying not to faint or anything. Kyungsoo stares back, smiles, heart-stopping in his effortless perfection. 

“Chanyeol, you may now read your vows.”

For a second, Chanyeol panics, heart stuttering in his chest. Then, calmly, Yura presses his paper into his hands. Chanyeol thanks her with a quick, shaky smile. 

“Kyungsoo,” he says, and his voice cracks like a preteen’s. Oh, god. He isn’t sure he can do this. But Kyungsoo looks up at him, serene and warm and encouraging, and Chanyeol clears his throat. “Kyungsoo. You are many things to me. My best friend, my partner in crime, the...love of my life. You have been my constant companion and confidant since the day I met you.” Chanyeol swallows hard, meets Kyungsoo’s eyes over his paper. “You have been my guide.” 

Kyungsoo’s face twitches; his lips press together. Chanyeol clenches his jaw, presses on, heart pounding. No turning back now. “You have saved me many times since then,” he continues, voice hoarse. “You continue to save me every day. Please continue to guide me through my life as we walk together through a...new terrain. And I will do everything in my power to save you in return.” Chanyeol has to pause to clear his throat again. “I will protect your heart as I have protected you in the past, with the same earnest desperation to keep you by my side always. I told you, once, that I could not go on without you beside me, and that remains true today. As your husband, I promise to love you, support you, laugh with you, cry with you, and be with you every day, as long as we both shall live.”

Kyungsoo stares at Chanyeol, takes a deep breath, and holds onto his hands tighter as he recites his vows by heart. “Chanyeol. You are many things to me. My closest friend, my love, my light. My hero.”

Chanyeol’s stomach drops through the ground. He’d been worried, at first, that reference to the game might be off-limits on a day like today, when it might be better to forget the trauma of it. But he’s unspeakably glad that Kyungsoo agrees with him on this—that it remains an unignorably significant part of their relationship, an unforgettable factor. Their beginning. 

Kyungsoo goes on, undeterred. “Our love transcends reality, which is the cheesiest thing you’ll ever catch me saying.” A few people snicker—not all of them understand the joke. “I have loved you when I thought I would lose you. I have loved you when I thought it was wiser not to. I will...love you to the end of this world and beyond.”

Kyungsoo stops there, blinks hard, takes a deep breath, and it almost makes _Chanyeol_ start crying. Goddammit. 

“Despite the burdens we both carried when we first met, in the end, we both shed our armour. For all that we have been through in the past, I know we can make it through the rest of our lives, together, hand-in-hand. As your husband, I promise to cherish you, accept you, care for you, and love you, for as long as we both shall live.”

The world goes kind of watery and fuzzy for a moment—it feels kind of like a panic attack, or maybe a cutscene. But actually Chanyeol thinks it’s just the effect of his heart pounding a million times in a minute as he stares down at Kyungsoo and the officiant tells them to exchange rings. They do—Chanyeol’s hands are shaky, but he thinks Kyungsoo’s are too—and they’re pronounced partners for life. 

The heavens decide to unleash a congratulatory downpour on their heads just as Chanyeol leans in to kiss him, fingers tangling together, mouths warm and suddenly wet. Chanyeol cries. Their crowd cheers. Kyungsoo smiles helplessly against his lips, and Chanyeol tries to smile, too. He’s kissed Kyungsoo hundreds of times—thousands, maybe—on two separate planes of reality—but this one feels different, special. He feels like he’ll never forget the exact texture of Kyungsoo’s lips, the shape of them against his mouth, the feeling of the rain in his hair and Kyungsoo’s hand on his neck and that painful, unrelenting, incredible squeezing of his heart. 

It feels like he best kind of forever. 

They run down the aisle, all the way back to the house. They hurry into the bathroom to towel their hair dry, steal another kiss against the marble sink, hands tugging at damp silk bowties as they laugh. Then they crowd into the parlour with everyone else, open boxes of pizza and kiss over crystal wine glasses filled with soda. Kyungsoo holds Chanyeol’s hand on top of the table, running his thumb over the ring on his finger, and laughs when Sehun turns on his chosen playlist. He leans his head against Chanyeol’s shoulder and whispers, “I liked your game references.”

“Yours were better,” Chanyeol mutters back. 

“You didn’t cry though,” Kyungsoo says. 

“I did. It was just raining at the same time.”

Kyungsoo grins. “I was right.”

Chanyeol stares at him. “I love you.”

The look on Kyungsoo’s face softens—his eyes go all liquid. “I love you too.”

Chanyeol’s heart feels like it’s going to explode. “When’s an appropriate time to take this back to our hotel?”

“We have to dance first,” Kyungsoo tells him, but his eyebrows are lifting, amused, endeared. “We have all night at the hotel.”

Chanyeol still doesn’t think it’ll be enough time to say everything he wants to say, do everything he wants to do. 

“We have the rest of our lives,” Kyungsoo adds, as if reading his mind. “We have forever.”

“Yeah,” Chanyeol breathes, chest full to bursting. “Come on, let’s go dance.”

Kyungsoo grins, and holds tight to his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my final PSTP extra! Thanks yall, it's been a slice.


End file.
